My Frustrating Tangle with Tawkify’s Pricing
So I was sitting there scrolling Instagram last Tuesday, eating cold pizza for breakfast when this ad pops up. Tawkify. Matchmaking service. Claimed they find you real connections, not just swipe nonsense. Thought, “Hell, why not try? Better than another night talking to my goldfish.”
Clicked the ad, landed on their site. Pretty website, fancy photos. Looked for the damn pricing page immediately. Nada. Zero. Just fluffy words about “personalized experiences” and “curated matches.” Scrolled up and down like an idiot. Found a tiny “Membership” tab. Clicked it. Bam – straight into a login wall demanding my email first. Red flag right there.
Filled out their endless questionnaire next. Took me 30 freakin’ minutes! Favorite movies, pet peeves, how my mom messed me up – the whole therapy session. Finally hit submit thinking, “Alright, show me the money now.”
Instead, got an email from some chirpy “dating consultant” named Brittany. “Let’s hop on a call to explore options!” Ugh. Scheduled it for Thursday. Brittany starts gushing about their “elite process” for 20 minutes. When I finally cut in asking about cost, her voice dropped to library-whisper mode.
Turns out:
- Basic 6-month deal? $6,000 up front
- Want “priority matching”? Add another $1,500
- After-date feedback calls? $500 extra (seriously?)
Nearly choked on my coffee. Asked if she took payments in kidneys instead. Brittany laughed like I’d made the funniest joke ever. Told me some clients pay over $20,000 for VIP packages. Who ARE these people? Trust fund babies? Crypto bros before the crash?
Then comes the kicker – she mentions “prices vary by location.” Turns out in my city it’s $1,000 more expensive than Nebraska! Why? Because we have taller buildings? Worse taco trucks? Absolute robbery.
Felt like Charlie Brown trying to kick that football. Wanted a simple price, got three sales calls and six “limited-time membership offers” in my spam folder. Realized these fancy matchmakers bury costs on purpose so they can upsell you while you’re emotionally desperate. Sneaky bastards.
Ended up rage-baking cookies instead. At least sugar doesn’t charge hidden fees. And my goldfish? Still free.
